Relations
by Macx
Summary: movie-fic, re-uploaded after it went AWOL. Imperfection 'verse. Will is no longer part of the command hierarchy. He has no real job. So Epps gives him one: he wants him to do the first screening of the candidates chosen for working with the Autobots. Or as Epps puts it "The military can brief them all they want, but the hands-on experience usually turns them into wrecks."


The day had started out with the arrival of several new soldiers of various backgrounds that would join Epps' unit. The core team that had been to Mission City, to hell and back, was still there. They were a tight-knit group of ten men and they trusted the Autobots, just like the Autobots trusted them. But Epps needed more men, which translated into a second unit. Both units would remain under Epps' general command, but the second one would be headed by Lieutenant Vasquez.

So new troops arrived. Lennox had the feeling that they might not know what exactly awaited them. Epps had taken them out on training, orientation runs, familiarizing them with everything. Optimus Prime had made them gape when he had addressed the newbies. Ironhide had impressed them and scared the shit out of several, if not all, with weapons demonstration.

That was normal. It happened all the time.

Meeting Barricade usually got them wondering. The former Decepticon made no secret out of who and what he was. Bumblebee evoked friendlier reactions, though also the 'what's his deal?' and 'where's the trap?' mutterings. Sam they didn't take seriously. The young engineer was still looking like a kid, even at twenty-five, but he had no trouble dealing with any soldier who gave him narrow-eyed looks. He had learned from the best.

What had them staring and whispering was Lennox himself. He knew what he looked like and he knew what others saw. He didn't even try to hide the runes and glyphs on his skin any more. Epps had literally kicked his ass to stop hiding, and Vasquez had backed him up. Him and Ironhide. So the long-sleeved shirts made way for normal tees again. He didn't wear sunglasses religiously around the human population of the base to hide temper flares. He didn't even try to explain it at all any more.

They either had been briefed or they would shortly be by Epps and the others.

What didn't go well were those moments when one or two got cocky. Will loathed those times. He could hear them mouthing off to the others about what a freak he was. How they wondered that the military allowed him around. How he was weird and belonged to a freak show. Sometimes there were remarks on how it was good that he was no longer the commander of the unit. It had happened once; that guy had been removed asap. There were those who didn't get it after almost four weeks that the giant mechanoid aliens were their alien allies, not over-sized refrigerators for them to command.

When one of the new batch, formerly Sector Seven, commented that Lennox looked like a Sector Seven experiment, Will had to hold back. It was enough that he felt like a freak sometimes. He didn't need to be looked at as one, too. By people who were specifically chosen!

But sometimes one or two fell through the screening process.

Those were the times he needed to talk to Epps. His friend was now in charge and he had to know. It felt like ratting out a fellow grunt, but these men would work with aliens. Deal daily with alien life and culture. If Lennox's appearance already had them spewing off such trash, what would happen in even stranger situations? And Will could think of several. He had been through them already.

Epps regarded him thoughtfully and Lennox knew something was happening in that brain of his. Something evil. Epps could be a bastard if he wanted to; he had learned from the best, too.

"Say, you still looking for a job?"

Will frowned. Sometimes he was going stir-crazy, sometimes he felt utterly useless, and sometimes he simply got the shit shot and beat out of him by Ironhide in their training sessions, which made him feel nothing at all from general exhaustion. Now and then he would join his old team for training, which always had him sweaty and dirty and bruised in the end. A really good feeling, he decided. Like old times.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I need to clear it with Banachek, but I doubt he'll have any objections. I want you to do the first screening of the candidates chosen for working at the base or with the Autobots – before they even set foot on base."

"What?"

"You heard me: you choose who gets to stay and who has to leave because he's some weird xenophobe underneath all the hard-ass soldier shit. I get the files, Will, I read them,. I look at their service records, I can talk to them a little, but I can't drag any of the mechs with me to confront them with reality. The military can brief them all they want, but the hands-on experience usually turns them into wrecks."

Lennox laughed. "You want me there in person?"

"How else?"

"Rob…"

"Hey, if they survive your looks and your selection process – and I know you can be just as hard-ass as they pretend to be – they are ready to work with the team. Have Ironhide along for some first contact and they won't piss their pants when they meet Barricade any more."

Will chuckled. "Yeah. Those not keeling over or running away screaming might just make it through the first rounds of questions."

Epps grinned toothily. "Right you are. So, you game?"

"I'm all game if Banachek says it's okay."

"Let me handle him. You just dig out your old officer handbook and get ready."

"Yes, sir," Lennox replied with a mock salute.

Epps threw a paper ball at him. "They're all yours. Show them your stuff."

Will laughed. "All of it?"

"Well, no robot sex or kinkiness. Everything else I leave to you."

Lennox rolled his eyes. As far as he was aware, Epps didn't know about him and Ironhide. He was aware of Sam's connection to Bumblebee, though.

"I won't even go protoform on them."

"Might just do the trick."

Will shrugged. "I'm not going to scare them to death, just give them the choice. They either pull their act together or leave. Simple as that."

Epps nodded. "You run into any trouble, holler. They're my men. You're the advisor; I'm the kick-ass commander."

Lennox grinned. "Yep, you are, Rob. Let me know what Banachek says. You know where to find me."

"Sure do. But I think as your first introduction to scaring the new guys you can start with the two problematic characters we acquired with this batch. Feel up to it?" Epps challenged.

"You sure you want them running?"

That got Lennox a laugh. "Do what you have to."

That's how 'confrontational training' was born. It wasn't on any kind of schedule, not even officially in a report, but the core unit soon picked up on it as the recruits got to see Lennox more and more often. He lived out his role as consultant and whatnot, filling in when one of the lieutenants or even Epps himself was mysteriously not available, and generally made a point of not appearing in long sleeves, except when it was still cool in the morning.

It was easy to fall back into his role as a military man, Will mused. He hadn't buried the Major deep enough and stepping back into the commander role was like he had never been away. Those who had fought with him in Mission City and had been under his command until the accident treated him like they had always done. As if he had never been away. Epps spent a lot of time in Washington or San Francisco, talking to Banachek, and whatever else was needed of him. Mostly it had to do with clearing Lennox for the work that he was best suited for: selecting their new unit members.

Some of the new ones reacted with interest to his suddenly regular presence, one or two with moderate discomfort, and those two Will had listened in on with disgust. He wondered how their screening had gone because it must have missed out on some aspects of their not-so-shining personalities. He had read up on them in their files and found nothing out of the ordinary. They were good, qualified, had had missions abroad, but this was clearly over their heads.

It was when Jonesy, one of the old crew, reported an incident with Jazz that Lennox knew he needed to up the ante and confront the men head on. Jazz was one of the easiest mechs to be around, aside from Bumblebee, and to piss him off was truly an amazing feat.

"If you have a problem, say it now." Lennox gazed coolly at the two who he had called into Epps' office – without Epps being there.

"No problem, sir."

"Don't bullshit me, private," he addressed the taller one. Private Dabasso, he reminded himself. The other was Tomas. "I've had my share of Marines and they were better at bullshitting me than you two. You knew what this meant. You were thoroughly briefed."

Tomas looked a little uneasy. "No one said anything about…" He stopped.

"About me?"

"Sir."

Lennox smiled wryly. "I'm not in the briefings, private."

"We were told about Mission City and everything. We were briefed on the alien life forms. I can handle giant robots, sir," Dabasso said.

As if. Dabasso had been the one who had been heard talking about Ratchet as if he was a giant medical machine, not a sentient life form.

"But not me?" Lennox asked coolly.

"It's just… strange, sir."

"Get used to it. You work here, you get to see a lot of strangeness. Mine's just more visible."

"Sir."

Lennox knew that they had been told about Sam, that he was another civilian with the highest clearance at the base. Not a scientist, not military, but part of this and at the top of the command structure should he choose to issue an order. That hadn't sat well with Tomas. He came from a research station and while his military conduct was perfect, he had been known to talk derogatively about scientists. All that Lennox had only found out after calling a few people and digging around.

"You can still go back, privates. This isn't a permanent assignment. We need people we can rely on here, people who can ignore the weird and look past the strange. This," and he raised a rune-covered hand, "is weird and strange and freaky. Believe me, I know. It'll get even stranger by the time you finish your third month on the base. Now the question is, can you work with me or not? Can you work with Sam Witwicky? Can you work with the Autobots?"

Dabasso shifted unconsciously and Tomas had his eyes on the wall, standing to attention.

"Think about it, privates. There's a ride going back to Nellis in twenty-four hours. Either you get your act together or you're on it. Good day."

They pulled off an almost perfect salute and walked out the door. Lennox leaned back against the desk and shook his head.

"So I heard you scared the newbies."

Lennox grinned at his taller friend. "I'm getting good at it."

Ironhide's optics reflected his amusement. Will grew more serious.

"But seriously, they need to handle this or leave. Rob can't have people that scare at the slightest freakiness in his team. I'm a mildly freaky appearance to, say, you guys."

"You scare them more because you're human," Ironhide rumbled, not the least bit offended.

Will nodded, no longer surprised at the mech's astute power of observation. Ironhide hid a lot underneath his trigger-happy and grumpy exterior.

"You guys are completely alien. They can work with that after a period of adjustment. Having a human, a former fellow soldier, turn out to be a mutant is different. They might wonder if it can happen to them, if they have to be extra careful, and so on. Sam they can handle. He's normal on the outside and his powers don't threaten them. Me, I'm an unknown." He shrugged.

"You're not a freak, Will," Ironhide said quietly, repeating what he had said dozens of times before. It never got old; it was never one too many.

"I know, I know. You guys keep reminding me of it."

"Maybe one day your under-developed, organic brain might even register it," came the sarcastic reply.

Will chuckled. "One can only hope."

He looked at his tattooed skin, watched the runes lazily swirl around his wrist. Some didn't even move at all. None ever stayed permanently anywhere, aside from the one on his neck and shoulders, and Ironhide's name around his wrist. On some days, his face was almost completely free of any glyphs or runes, and on other days he had then all over the place.

"Well, my work's done for today. Time to work on my tan," he announced lightly.

Ironhide watched him go, then followed.

Twenty-four hours later Private Dabasso was on his way back to Nellis, Private Tomas was still at the base. Epps just gave Will a nod, not commenting.

Another twenty-four hours later Will's new job had finally been cleared with Banachek and whoever else needed to give his consent.

The flight to Nellis two weeks later was both liberating and filled with tension for Will. Liberating because it was the first time he didn't have to hide; and tense for the same reason. A chopper had picked him up, much to Ironhide's grumbling. Apparently the black mech had wanted to come along, but Prime had vetoed that, stating that for the first meeting between Lennox and the airbase commander, Major General Henry Dunn, they would go by military procedure.

The crew of the chopper greeted Will like they would anyone and Lennox hoped he wasn't showing off more glyphs than necessary on his face. He had decided on long sleeves again, kept his hands out of sight as much as possible, and the baseball cap helped, too. No need to scare anyone more than necessary.

He had talked to Dunn before and he knew the men 'handling' him had been briefed, knew what to expect. It sounded like he was some kind of dangerous artifact.

Great.

When he had voiced that thought, Sam had accused him of projecting.

The base had a population of nearly nine thousand people, spread out over an area of forty-six square kilometers. The chances that all of them got to see Will were slim. Still, he was careful on that first day. Not that he would ever go into the residential areas.

The first meeting went well, though it didn't happen in the base commander's official office. To keep Lennox's presence a secret he had moved everything into a different area and the possible candidates would be shuttled there by hand-picked pilots. The whole operation was under tight wraps and aside from Dunn, only two other members of his staff knew what was really going on.  
Dunn offered Will all the help he wanted, showed him the office he would use for the crew interviews, and introduced him to Captain Mike Bowman, his personal liaison on the base. Bowman was a tall, amiable guy with sharp blue eyes, the usual crew cut, and a likeable smile. He would shadow Lennox, accompany him wherever he needed to go, would be the go-between in case of problems, and he would even fly him back and forth from base to base should Will request a lift.

"I looked at your service record, Major," Dunn said as they sat down in the office again. Bowman wasn't present.

"I'm no longer on active duty, sir."

Dunn inclined his head. "Maybe not on paper, but I think Mr. Banachek made it clear that while the title is obsolete, the rank is still there. You were the first liaison to the Autobots. You helped pave the way. I respect your work and Captain Epps gave me an idea as to who you are."

Lennox frowned. "He did?"

Dunn smiled. "Nothing bad. Your service record speaks for itself."

As does my skin, Will thought darkly.

"The SecDef made it clear to me what he expects of my base and my men. I can assure you, Major, there won't be an incident. You can move freely around the base. Captain Bowman is your personal contact. Talk to him about whatever is required."

"Thank you, General."

"Don't thank me, Major. I've talked to Captain Epps and I know of the problems with the selection process. It's hard to get across what's it like out here, what's expected at the Autobot base. You can prepare men for war situations, deserts, jungles and open water, but aliens?"

Will smiled. "You don't have to tell me."

"I know. Well, Major, good luck with your new job," Dunn grinned.

Lennox gave an easy salute. "Sir."

It wasn't much of a surprise that Ironhide was picking him up at the end of his visit instead of Lennox getting the air-ride service home.

"So?" the mech prodded.

"Subtle, 'hide," he teased.

"You want subtle? You talk to Jazz."

Lennox laughed. "It went okay. At least Dunn and his people have better manners and don't stare at me. Unlike the guys Epps has been getting. I think I can work with the base commander."

"Want some assistance?"

Will smiled. "Not right away, but since I'll be easing the new guys into working with you… having you around might help."

"There hadn't been much easing in with the others," Ironhide agreed. "Sometimes the gawking gets a bit tiresome."

Will burst out laughing.

"Hey, I feel like some dusty, old museum piece," Ironhide complained.

"You got the old part right."

"Watch it, Lennox!" came the growl. "You're easily chugged out."

"Oh, you wouldn't."

"Try me."

Will leaned back in the seats, enjoying the banter. They were almost home and while he had been happy to be out and about, even if it was just more or less around the corner at the desert air base, it was good to be home, too.

"Got plans?" he asked softly.

There was silence and he could almost hear the processors clicking. "Are you coming on to me?" Ironhide asked suspiciously.

He grinned. "What if I were?"

"Then you better stop teasing before we shock the new recruits even more."

While Will wasn't the exhibitionistic type, something inside him reacted to the low rumble. Maybe it was just the fact that the tension was easing. Runes swam over his skin, tell-tale of his thoughts.

Ironhide chuckled. "Humans," he muttered.

"Oh shut up! You started it!"

"I thought you didn't react to me," Ironhide teased mercilessly. "I'm not your kind. I'm not attractive to a human."

Lennox felt something inside of him curl with frustration and mild anger. "We're not talking sex here," he hissed, his mood changing abruptly.

Ironhide suddenly stopped and before Will knew what was happening, he was flung from the cabin and was rolling over the desert. He was smoothly back on his feet and glaring at the now transformed mech.

"What's your problem?" he demanded.

Ironhide knelt down. "The problem seems to be you. And you have it with me. When will you accept that what you feel and need is reflected by me? When will it enter your thick head that should you want to initiate a sharing or just be close, you can do so?"

Will clenched his hands into fists and glared more.

"Will," Ironhide coaxed. "Sometimes it's healthier to let go."

"I never was the type," he muttered.

And he had never been the type to talk about emotions. Sarah had read him better than he himself. She had known and he had been grateful for it. That way he didn't have to say what he felt. Now he was facing not only something he was still not accustomed to – a body that was no longer human – but also the fact that his partner was alien. He had to talk or live with the miscommunication.

Or he had to listen to his body.

Next thing I know we find ourselves in a dark corner of the base and groping, he thought, remembering his conversation with Sam.

"We should go home," he finally said, raising his eyes to meet the even, blue optics.

Ironhide tilted his head and a smirk appeared on his features, but he rose without a word and transformed.

Lennox knew this wasn't over yet and Ironhide had driven home another fact: there was a shared need, something that was stronger in Will because of his hybrid human body. Ironhide wasn't averse to experimenting with what this need turned out to be, but Lennox himself was too hesitant for now.

But only for now.

His new job pre-empted all attempts of physical closeness with Ironhide for the next days. Will's first week on the base was spent finalizing his housing arrangements, as well as moving his office space into where he would live. In that regard it wasn't any different from living with the Autobots. Bowman had driven him to what looked like a former storage unit. It was spacey, it was in good shape, it had all the requirements and it was enough out of the way that casual passers-by wouldn't happen.

Bowman had several men clean it out and push in what looked like half an apartment home, including a TV set that would have made Epps cry with appreciation.

"You know that this beauty makes you the ideal host for the next football party," Bowman joked.

Will laughed. "Yeah, right. You bring the food, I'll bring the space."

A thought that immediately came to his mind was that this place was large enough for Ironhide to stand up in, and Lennox shut out all stupid ideas in that regard right away. He wasn't going to stay here indefinitely. This was a temporary assignment, a job, and he would be back at the base within a few weeks.

Over time he got to know his liaison a lot better over coffee and sandwiches. Bowman brought food with him whenever he came over for lunch. By the end of the first week Will's place was up and running and he had been given a few insights into who Captain Michael Bowman was. They had traded service stories, dropped a few hints as to dangerous missions and places they had been sent to, and generally found they were pretty much alike.

Bowman asked him quite openly about what had happened and Lennox told him. He knew from Dunn that Bowman and every other person on the base he could come in contact with, knew not to blab about Lennox's presence. Ever since Mission City, Nellis had become part of the secrecy. Its pilots had been the ones deployed against the Decepticons, had been killed by Starscream, and those who had survived knew it was better not to mention giant alien robots to the outside world.

Will found himself talking about the accident – which he couldn't really remember – the changes, the consequences, his 'death', the loss of his family. It was liberating in a way. Bowman in turn told him about his work for the 422d Test and Evaluation Squadron, about losing two of his best friends in a simple aerial maneuver over supposedly friendly grounds, his own crash, his rescue, his fight to remain in the service, and how he had finally been allowed back on active duty – just not back into a squadron again.

"That had to suck," Will commented.

"Not as much as giving it all up like you. You and your men were the heroes of the hour, Major."

Will laughed humorlessly. "We didn't feel like it, believe me. We survived and we handled it. Everything else after that…" He shrugged.

Bowman cleaned his plate of the last fries and wiped his hands on a napkin. "We lost men and civilians that day. I lost almost a whole squad of F-22s. I know it was a war and I know we won it for now. The question is, are we really prepared for another?"

Will met the sharp blue eyes. "You're never prepared for war, Captain."

Lennox worked out an interview schedule for the candidates with Bowman and went through mountains of paperwork to read up on who had been chosen as candidates. Sometimes he spent whole nights over the files, which varied in size. After three nights he told Bowman he needed a secure method to dig around the candidates' backgrounds. Three hours later he had one, courtesy of Banachek.

In the end there were three stacks: the good, the bad and the questionable. Lennox knew he had to talk to all of them because a good service record didn't mean the best qualifications for the job. The questionable were the ones he couldn't make up his mind of. A fourth stack was created two days later when the internationals came onto his desk, too.

Will wondered who had chosen the candidates. They came from all over the spectrum: the US military, the FBI, the CIA, and even beyond. There were four Canadians, two Australians, two British, three Germans and one Frenchman on the list. All had worked with the US military before, had been on classified missions or had been set on tasks they would never be able to talk about to anyone but their immediate superior. A Mexican and another Canadian were added by the end of the day and he groaned to himself.

Bowman stuck his head in at the end of his shift, took one look at Will, the amount of coffee consumed, and smiled.

"Need help?" he asked.

"Nah. You go and catch some sleep. I'll take this stuff and just shred it," Lennox replied.

The Captain laughed. "That bad?"

"Worse."

"When do you want to start the interviews?"

"End of the week," Will sighed. He held up a list. "I wanted to give that to you tomorrow. Those are the guys coming in first."

Bowman walked up to him and took the sheet of paper. "Mail me the list," he said after running an expert eye over the names and ranks. "I'll set everything up."

"Thanks, Captain."

"You're welcome. And by the way, there's a frigging huge Topkick sitting out in the dark and waiting for you."

Lennox blinked. "What?"

"He came in an hour ago."

"What?!"

The other man chuckled. "He had the clearance and secure ID. Showed it to the guard at the main gate. Go and get some sleep, Major. And tell your friend hello."

With that he left the office.

Will was out ten minutes later and looking for Ironhide.

He actually spent the night with Ironhide, who had rolled in the back door of the former storage facility. They hadn't talked much, just enjoyed being together, and something inside Will had curled up with happiness. He smiled even more as he thought of Ironhide's attempts to fine-tune the holographic image without drawing too much power. Lennox had been only too willing to help with that. He had fallen asleep on his couch somewhere around three in the morning and only woken when a gentle caress over his chest roused him. Ironhide's optics had hovered over him, watching him all the while he had gotten up, thrown his clothes off and showered. While the naked human body wasn't exactly a turn-on for mechs, the very idea that his partner had watched had left him rather hot and bothered. Ironhide had found it increasingly interesting and amusing.

Drying his hair, Will looked into the mirror, noting the pale runes on the left side of his face, running over his cheek and temple. They drifted slowly, lazily, and where the display had been rather bright yesterday, it was barely visible today.

He sighed softly.

Things were still changing, though not as quickly and scarily as before. Then again, his growing attraction to the black mech was scary sometimes. He had never been interested in anything but soft curves made of flesh and blood. Ironhide was neither human nor curvy or female. While Will could overlook the gender issue now – he had had a lot of time to think about that throughout long nights lying awake – there was still the fact that humans weren't attracted to giant metal beings on a regular basis.

Part of him was. A part he couldn't blame on the Allspark.

"I wish we had the time to experiment with this," he told his reflection. "Because it scares the hell out of me."

Walking back into the main area, he found Ironhide sitting on the ground, waiting.

"You need to leave?" Lennox asked.

"Prime hasn't given me anything to do, so I could stay," was the careful reply. "You have enough parking space in the back."

Will nodded. He was actually kind of relieved Ironhide would be staying. Suddenly a smile crossed his lips.

"I think I'll introduce you to Captain Bowman. He's been wanting to get to know some of you guys."

"Candidate?"

"Nope, my liaison. He'd make a good addition to the base if I could persuade him to leave Dunn and Nellis behind."

Ironhide tilted his head. "I'm looking forward to meeting him."

Second Lieutenant Andrew Burn knew that the day he had been called to appear personally at Nellis Airforce base his career was about to change. His Captain had talked to him about someone taking an interest in his skills. Not that he was a particularly talented pilot; no more than the others. He knew how to fly and he flew everything with wings or a rotor. He had shipped people into all kinds of locations, had been in war zones, at the end of the world, in heat, in cold and he had been under fire before. So he could handle himself in difficult situations.

When his superior had told him to fly to Nellis and talk to a Captain Bowman, he had done so. Meeting Bowman, he had been told he had been chosen as a candidate for a special unit and would he be interested. What was Burn to say? Special units had been his life already. He had never served a regular unit anyway. There had always been secrecy and undercover missions.

Now it was the same.

So he was told he would talk to the liaison responsible, Major Will Lennox.

Burn had expected everything, but not a man in civilian clothes, with a clearly military air around him, in an office that had been set up in an old storage unit at Nellis. He also hadn't expected the… things on his skin. Burn was trying not to stare, but it was hard. Something was moving over the tanned skin, like some weird symbols or strings of writing. Burn was no language buff, but the things looked more like some kind of ancient glyphs than anything else.

"At ease, Lieutenant," Lennox said calmly, as if he wasn't covered in weird stuff that was moving. That was the most eerie thing. If they had been tattoos, sure. But moving symbols?

Okay, he knew guys who would love to get something like this tattooed on their bodies. Some of his buddies were tattooed and proud of every single needle mark. Still… eerie.

"I know Captain Bowman already mentioned the classification of what we are about to talk about, as well as what you see."

Like you? Burn thought.

"But I want to remind you again. Nothing I'll tell you now is a joke. Nothing that will be shown to you is an elaborate set-up."

"Yes, sir," he answered automatically.

Lennox smiled. "Do you believe in alien life, Lieutenant?"

Burn looked at the other man, carefully running the possible answers through his head. Finally he said, "If it was undoubtedly proven, yes, sir."

"Good answer. What would you say this is?" Lennox raised his hand, showing Burn what looked like a band of those strange glyphs etched unmoving around his wrist.

"I don't know, sir."

"If I told you it was the result of an accident with an alien device that should have killed me but didn't, would you believe it?"

Now his head started to spin at least a little bit.

"Would this be proof enough?" the Major pressed on.

"It could be a skin condition, sir."

Lennox chuckled. "One heck of a skin condition. No amount of acne cream will help."

"Sir."

Lennox studied him. And then, without elaborating on the 'skin condition', came easy questions about Burn himself, about his background, about his qualifications, about his family, or lack thereof. Burn had never been married, had no children, and his parents were dead. He knew it had made him an ideal candidate in the past already. No ties, no one to ask about where he was going or where he had been. It was what had apparently appealed to Lennox as well.

But then a different kind of questions started.

Yes, he had heard about Mission City. Terrorist attack. There had been rumors by the UFO freaks that it had been an alien attack.

And it had been an alien attack.

Burn stared.

He knew he should be saying something, but all that came out was "Sir?"

Lennox smiled calmly. "You heard me, Lieutenant. You're a smart man, Burn. It's why you are here."

"But…"

"I was there, Lieutenant. I was there and I was in Qatar where my men, my whole base, were taken out by an alien mechanical life form. We won the battle. We allied ourselves with the good guys. For the past seven years we have lived with alien mechanoid life forms among us."

Burn felt his head spinning.

"The unit currently working with those life forms, the Autobots, needs manpower. I chose you out of many other pilots because you have a clean record, you show you can adapt quickly to situations, and because you work well with people of different nationalities. We don't need xenophobes, Lieutenant. We need people who we can trust, who are willing to take a chance, and who will trust not only in their human commander and fellow soliders but will also follow an order from our allies should need arise."

"Ah, yes, sir," he said unsteadily.

Lennox smiled more. "And since you haven't run screaming from my office in the past hour, I think you're good material for that task."

"Sir?"

"You've seen the runes on my skin. The 'skin condition'. You are wondering what the heck they are."

"It's none of my business, sir."

"It will be because I live at the Autobot base, too. You will see a lot more of me. I am human, Lieutenant, despite the looks. You'll get the full briefing from Captain Epps at the base, if you accept your new posting."

Burn was still reeling, but he didn't have to think about it twice. "Yes, sir!"

Lennox nodded, closing the folder on his table. "You'll be staying at Nellis for a while, before your transfer. Captain Bowman will make sure all your personal belongings are sent here."

"Thank you, sir."

Another nod. "Dismissed, Lieutenant. See you around."

Another week later Lennox had already spoken to several more candidates and he had to give it to the men: they were truly professionals. Their service records were perfect and they didn't keel over in a dead faint when they met Will. Some regarded him with curiosity, but they were professional enough not to ask any questions then, nor did they discuss their interviews anywhere on base.

Choosing Burn had been gut instinct, coupled with an impressive service record. Others had been more difficult to pick out. So far only one other man had made it into the second unit Epps would command. They were going international now and aside from working with alien life forms, the unit would also interact with different cultures of their own planet. Just having a Canadian and an American on the same team could be problematic, but add a British or French or Australian, and things could really escalate off duty. So selection was carefully done.

By the end of the second week he had four men and three different nations. Epps was going multi-cultural, Will mused to himself.

For the first time in a long time Will Lennox felt truly like he was needed again, that he had a purpose, a job, and he enjoyed it immensely, even if talking to several dozen men and women was repetitive, tiring and sometimes exhausting.

Ironhide had stayed. It was actually a very good feeling to have him here, especially since what happened inside his temporary home stayed in his temporary home. Not that anything censured or x-rated occurred anyway.

Bowman had been only too excited to meet an Autobot and he and Ironhide talked now and then. It was clear that the captain would love nothing more than to work with the Autobots, but for now he was assigned to Nellis and, he had confessed, he loved his work. Will wondered if they might need a liaison and kept that in mind. Just in case.

Being with Will was different from being with someone of his own kind. Ironhide had been aware of the differences between them from the get-go. It was hard not to be. Will Lennox was human, was smaller, was an organic, had no clue about Cybertron, just like Ironhide had had no real idea about Earth. Cultures clashed, different minds met, and somehow, through it all, they had become friends. With the accident, that friendship had changed, had tightened, and the next step to sharing with the other had been almost natural.

But Will was still different. For all his shape-changing abilities, for all his protoform looks, he wasn't one of them.

And Ironhide was slowly becoming aware of how much he in turn had changed because of it. It were small things, the way he looked at something, how he handled himself, how he let his mind wander when it came to the human. As much as they were different, they were a similar breed – warriors foremost.

The way he shared with Will was not like what he was used to either. He had only had one more than casual relationship and that had been Chromia. She was lost; he had no idea whether she was at all functional any more, and it hadn't been a spark bond. That had never happened to Ironhide and Will wasn't his bonded either. He was alien and new and still, now, familiar.

Nothing compared to this.

Not even Bumblebee's semi-bond with Sam. Sometimes Ironhide envied his younger friend his connection. It was so much easier, he had less problems with inter-cultural clashes, and Sam just knew what his partner felt. Ironhide had never been much of a talker when it came to himself. Neither was Will. What they had shared already had been given freely, though it was hardly one's life story. Tiny fragments of the whole pieced together over time became a picture.

Looking at the human stretched out before him, Ironhide let his optics linger on the lazily moving runes. Today they were mostly Cybertronian, with just a spatter of cosmic code and a few singular glyphs of ancient Cybertronian. The sun played over the tanned skin as it fell through the open skylight of the temporary home on Nellis. It was Sunday afternoon and everything was quiet; no interviews, no debriefings, no calls, no work at all. Lennox had declined going back to the Autobot base. It was so much calmer here, with people on weekend leave, families out and about, and Ironhide could only agree.

Will looked relaxed, totally at ease, and it was such a contrast to the normally tense and controlled behavior his human friend had adopted.

The past several weeks at Nellis had changed Will subtly. There was a new purpose in his life, a challenge, and Ironhide found that the challenge and purpose also came with an unexpected openness. Times spent together suddenly had new additions; they had started to experiment more, and Ironhide himself had been pestering Ratchet about the holo emitters until the medic had nearly blown a gasket.

But Ironhide was happy for his friend.

Too much had been thrown at him. Too much was still happening.

Like their compatibility.

Ironhide knew Will enjoyed it. He himself did so, too. But humans had different needs. Their interaction in that regard was drawn out, consisted of touching before and after the actual act. Ironhide found it messy, to say the least, with too much bodily fluids involved. He had downloaded and viewed all kinds of material on the subject and he wondered how the species had been able to procreate so successfully. The human body enjoyed the act, but the logistics involved, the very danger to the body as it heated up and almost went on overdrive, had Ironhide puzzled.

He couldn't give this to Will and Lennox had never asked for it. It was probably because of the gender difference involved when it came to human copulation. Ironhide could download all the facts, but the understanding was lacking. So he kept back and watched.

Optimus had approached him about the unusual relationship. Ironhide had almost laughed at how his commander had tried to be discreet and still find out the truth about it all.

"We're working something out between us," he had only said.

"I see." Blue optics gazed quizzically at him. "Does Will understand what this entails?"

"More than I do, Prime."

That had gotten him the equivalent of a quirked eyebrow.

"Working on it," Ironhide had only repeated.

And they were. A life filled with compromises because of their differences.

Checking his energon count he calculated he had enough for his hardlight hologram, and he transformed. It was easier to be on four wheels than two legs when it came to depletion problems.

Will had moved, tensing a little in alarm, when he had heard the transformation kick in. He almost knocked the holographic projection in the head when Ironhide appeared.

"Good God!" he exclaimed. "Don't do that!"

Ironhide smirked. He and Will had worked on the projection and it looked more or less human now. There were still the unnaturally blue eyes, which the mech found he actually preferred. He didn't think of himself as human and having the image look and feel so real… he wanted others to be reminded that he really wasn't. Not that many saw this. So far, only Will had and he didn't complain about the looks.

"What are you doing?" Lennox asked, eyes narrowing.

"What does it look like?"

"Solving another puzzle," the human mumbled and lay back down again.

Ironhide was surprised, but then he chuckled. "Yes."

"Do I have to move for that?"

"No."

"Good. Puzzle and solve away."

When Ironhide's very solid hand touched the warm skin, Lennox jumped and bit back an expletive, shooting the hologram a dark look.

"You said…"

"I know what I said!"

Eyebrows rose in a 'So?'

More grumbling, but Will let him continue to caress the warm skin, watch the runes. Muscles relaxed and the harder lines in Will's face smoothed out.

"Nice," he got as a comment after a while.

They rarely had such close contact. Even when working on the hologram, spending the nights at the base and in very close proximity to Will, he had stopped at becoming intimate. Human intimacy was something he was only just learning about.

Ironhide had no similar experience to compare this to. His metal skin wasn't receptive enough. Jazz's micronet might give the silver Autobot an edge when it came to experiencing human touch, but Ironhide had never seen any sense in it. The hologram was even less responsive, but he had had Ratchet work out a few problems and the medic had installed a new feature. It allowed Ironhide to switch on an additional, sensory booster, which enabled the hardlight projection to relay the sense of touch. Of course it drew more power, but if Ironhide played it well, he could use it for a good length of time.

Experiments. Compromises. They defined their lives.

A string of runes swirled around his fingers and Ironhide chased them over the tanned skin, amazed at the responsiveness of both the human and the Allspark part.

A sigh escaped Will.

Ironhide studied him. "Are you unhappy?"

Will's eyes flew open and he twisted around again. "What?!"

"Your old life still weighs on you despite everything. I can't change it, can't help you."

Lennox rolled onto his back. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Ironhide, wait a sec! I'm happy. I'm fine! This… between us… it works, okay? I'm not complaining."

Ironhide was doubtful of it, but the human looked so sincere. His hand now rested on the warm skin of Will's chest and he regarded the glyphs curiously.

"Humans get those moods, 'hide. We're just like that. It's been a year since the accident. My anniversary, so to speak. It's a long time, but not really long enough. Working through this… sometimes I get these moods and then… you just gotta let me run with it. What you do… it's more than enough. Don't work yourself in a knot, okay?"

Ironhide let a finger trace over a line of pulsing runes. They spelled 'warrior'. They were always there, on Will's skin, moving about, never at the same place. They reminded him more than anything that the human was more than a small organic. He was a warrior. He was his companion. They were equals.

Will didn't withdraw, didn't move away, made no attempt to stop Ironhide's caress.

"We're doing fine," his human friend said softly.

Ironhide regarded him steadily. "Sometimes you want more."

"So do you. We both need to compromise. We both need to grow into this. It's still changing and has too many variables, Ironhide. I keep learning about myself, about you, and all of it takes time. And it's me who has the more regular freak-outs."

"You're entitled to."

"After a while it should stop."

"There's no deadline, Will."

That got Ironhide a chuckle.

"The job helps," Will went on. "A lot. I get to interact with other people, not just Sam and the unit. I get out, even if it's just a few hundred miles around the corner."

"You enjoy it."

"Yeah."

"You haven't okayed any of them yet, though."

Lennox sat cross-legged, looking at Ironhide's hand on his forearm as the hologram traced the runes that seemed to eagerly swirl around his fingers.

"It's nothing to take lightly, joining a special unit. And Epps has a very special unit. You can't just transfer out of it after a few trial months. This is top secret stuff until your presence might one day be known to all of mankind. It's a small step that the team is becoming more international already."

And with the small steps came the larger steps in their relationship. Lennox felt free,; more free than anytime before. Something inside of him had broken open and finally blossomed, and looking into the fake blue eyes in a fake human face, he smiled.

"Would you feel more at ease if the hologram was female?"

Okay, whenever he thought he had Ironhide pegged, he got thrown for a loop once more.

"What? No!"

"Your society seems to have trouble with two individuals of the same gender being closer, being compatible."

"Ironhide…!"

"By your definition, we are male."

"Are you going into gender issues now?!"

"The definition of gender is 'type', 'sort' or 'kind'. We are of a different kind, but your people keep referring to gender as something sexual," Ironhide told him.

Will sighed. "We keep going back to the sex."

"Your language is difficult to understand."

"You downloaded more than just English," Lennox pointed out.

"And each language has its obstacles. If it bothers you, I can change my set-up."

"Good gawd!" Will groaned. "You sound like you're nothing but a machine where I flip a switch and it changes programs!"

Ironhide regarded him seriously. "You keep many secrets already. Being seen with a male image of myself, touching you…"

"I don't give a fuck, okay?" Will exploded.

Why was it they always ended up with him losing his temper over something menial?

"This isn't… Listen, our relationship… is different from anything that could happen here on Earth, Ironhide. Or on Cybertron. That you're male by our definition… hell, I don't care!"

"You were never attracted to your own gender."

"How would you know?" he challenged.

The inhuman blue eyes just looked back at him, no holographic muscle moving.

"Okay, so I wasn't, but this… us…" Will failed at the words. "For me there's no gender involved. Hell, the emotions involved are nothing I've ever experienced before. I'm not confusing you with a woman or a man or even a human being, 'hide. I wouldn't do this if I had those issues. Believe me, I'd never have started anything of the like if it grossed me out or made me sick or something."

Will knew he had crossed boundaries with their relationship. Not just one or two; many.

"I'm not sick of your company either," was the careful reply. "Not for selfish reasons either."

Will smirked. "Long time no sharing?" he teased.

Ironhide glowered at him. He felt an alarm tingle through him, a first one. He had another twenty minutes left if he played it close.

"Ironhide? Don't waste energon."

He smiled. "So you are technopathic?"

"No, I can hear the alarm klaxons."

The mech frowned. Will laughed.

"There was a flicker in your eyes. Very tell-tale. Switch it off. I'm done sunbathing."

Ironhide transformed as he let the image disappear. His friend pulled on his t-shirt and stretched. It was easy to see how relaxed Will was and the runes gave it to him in writing, so to speak. Lennox placed a brief, firm hand against Ironhide's leg, then gave it a pat.

Theirs was one of the strangest relationships, even compared to Bumblebee and Sam, who had less problems relating to each other on a more intimate basis. But it was working out.

Will smirked a little.

And the day the soldiers got wind of that little tidbit, information they weren't privy to and wouldn't find out about unless Lennox wanted it, life would become even more interesting.

For some reason, Will couldn't care less. His relationship with Ironhide was a private matter and he wouldn't reveal it to anyone he didn't trust implicitly. Nor would Ironhide tell anyone about something he thought was only between them, least of all their human allies.

He sent a tingle over Ironhide's skin and the blue optics narrowed, growing brighter, as they locked onto the innocent human ones.

"You are developing new abilities," the mech remarked.

"Comes in handy," was the casual reply.

"What for?"

"When I don't want to spell it out."

Now the light was even brighter. Will smirked, then let the protoform take the place of his human appearance.

"We gotta work on that foreplay," he only said as sockets connected and energy flowed between the two different beings.

"I'm a fast learner," Ironhide replied, tightening his hold, pulling him closer.

The rest was drowned in the pulse of pure energy that connected a spark with hybrid cells. Runes flared brightly and Will knew this was too brief, way too brief, but a relief nevertheless. Air hissed out of his lungs, or whatever doubled as lungs in this form, and he felt a massive arm around his waist, holding him up. His nerve-endings tingled and Will knew his optics glowed brightly with the overload of sensation and energy.

"Wow," he only whispered roughly.

"Was it good for you, too?" Ironhide teased, but the unsteady edge told Lennox that his partner had enjoyed it just as much.

"Jazz is a bad influence on you," the human hybrid replied. "You watch too many soaps."

Ironhide removed his fingers from the interface sockets, running a hand over the smooth protoform metal.

"I keep learning interesting things."

"From soaps?!"

The grin said it all. Will felt like slapping him.

"I think we should work off the energy," he muttered.

He easily reverted back to his human form, feeling less shaky after a sharing than in his protoform appearance, and Ironhide transformed. He climbed into the cab, noting the lazily drifting runes, barely visible under his skin.

Satisfied, he mused.

Ironhide's engine purred with the same satisfaction as they left the storage facility and headed toward the main gate. It was a nice day for a drive and Will felt it would also be a great day for a swim. There were bodies of water not too far away and he didn't have to be back until Monday.

Yeah, that sounded good.

Really, really good.

Four months later the second unit stood. Banachek gave his approval, though that was only a pro-forma signature, and mentioned that he wanted to keep Will as a liaison to Nellis.

Lennox was speechless, but he accepted. Bowman would be his counterpart on the military's side.

"So, what do you say, Major?" Banachek asked calmly.

"I'm no longer in the service," Will replied automatically.

That got him a brief smile and raised eye-brows.

"Okay, I accept," Lennox finally said.

"Good. Arrangements have been made. You still only report to Optimus Prime and myself, to clear that up. Captain Epps also requested that you take over the unit's training whenever he is unavailable. I've heard it has happened already and it known as 'confrontational training'?"

Will nodded.

"Keep at it. These men might one day be confronted with another Decepticon attack. I don't want them shooting at friendlies or to freeze up because of the alienness of the enemy."

"Neither do I," Lennox replied.

Banachek gave him a nod, then took his briefcase and left. Will knew the man had a meeting with Prime about something. Lennox shuffled a few more files around his desk – in his own office, which Epps and the guys had arranged for him – then left he room and went looking for Ironhide.

He found his friend in the weapons shop where the mech was tinkering with something or other.

"Hey. Whatcha doin'?"

Ironhide looked down at him, holding one huge cannon in his hand. "Weapons testing."

"Cool. Going to the range?"

"Later."

"Call me?"

"Will do."

Lennox gave him a brief smile, then sauntered off. He felt hungry and weapons testing meant a lot of time outside, probably several hours, so food was a good idea right now. He headed for the kitchen to see what the guys might have as leftovers. He was in the mood for pasta.


End file.
